


Snow After Fire

by Bluebell7



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Domestic Bilbo, Dwalin Is A Softie, Dwobbits, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Mpreg, Overprotective Thorin, a bit more fluff, a tiny dash of angst, delicious hobbit food, lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-03 10:40:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1741760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluebell7/pseuds/Bluebell7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo heads back to the Shire after the Battle of the Five Armies, believing that Thorin never wants to see him again. However, Thorin has left him with a rather unexpected parting gift. (Yep, you guessed it - Dwobbits).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something Tookish

**Author's Note:**

> "So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their endings." - J. R. R. Tolkien

It had been a difficult birth, Bilbo remembered.

For one thing, he had not expected to ever become pregnant. He had almost forgotten completely about the tiny dash of fairy blood running through his Tookish veins, the dash which meant that he, Bilbo Baggins, was one of the few male Hobbits in all of Arda who could become with child. It certainly hadn’t been at the forefront of his mind the night he and Thorin had finally lain together.

He hadn’t even discovered he was pregnant until he was already most of the way back to the Shire. Heartbroken, miserable, and soaked in freezing rain, he had been making for Rivendell when his vision had begun to blur, then to swim, and finally to fail completely as he keeled over at the side of the road. He had awoken - much later - in a soft warm bed, with Gandalf and Elrond sitting on either side. Elrond had been the first to offer his bittersweet congratulations.

Then there had been the second revelation, once Bilbo had returned to Bag End. He had insisted upon returning home, although the Elves had entreated him to stay until the babe was born. The parting with Thorin and the rest of the company was still painfully fresh, and he wanted his child to be born under the hill, just as he had been. At first he had thought the larger-than-expected swell of his belly was due to the child’s half-Dwarvishness, but then Lavender Bracegirdle - one of many local midwives who had taken an interest in his unusual condition - had given him an experimental squeeze, and announced with relish that her clever hands had detected _two_ heads. Twins.

Bilbo had had to give birth to not one, but two large half-Dwarven babes, and it had certainly not been a walk in the garden. Gandalf had decided to stay in Bag End and help, although his version of help seemed to mostly involve cracking his head on the ceiling, smoking far more than he should, and occasionally lighting the fire with his staff. Bilbo had been put on absolute bed rest by Lavender, meaning that Gandalf was also scurrying between the Hobbit’s favourite armchair and the kitchen with cups of tea, or the library with a pile of books, or Bilbo’s bedroom with a wedge of clean pocket handkerchiefs.

Any and all attempts the Wizard made to convince Bilbo to write a certain long letter to a certain stubborn Dwarf were duly rebuffed.

The babes had been energetically wriggling almost non-stop for a whole week, and Bilbo was about half way through an Elven work on the history of medicinal plants (as well as chewing on a cinnamon biscuit) when his contractions started. There were no complications to the birth as such, other than that it took Bilbo a gargantuan amount of effort to force two not-so-little Dwobbits out of his body (the word Dwobbit had been coined by Bilbo’s neighbour, Hamfast Gamgee, and had instantly become lexicon).

It seemed to Bilbo that the birthing lasted an absolute eon, but really it was only about six or seven hours, with never less than three midwives gathered at his bedroom door (even though they were regularly shooed away by Lavender), and a rather worried wizard pacing and smoking in the hall. His twin babes were finally born just as the sun was setting on the breezy summer’s evening.

Thrain had come first, and had screamed up a storm as soon as he had drawn his first breath. Bilbo remembered Lavender placing his son into his arms like it had happened only yesterday; not nearly two years ago. The first things he had noticed were the tiny pointed ears. Then he had become lost in the deep blue of his son’s eyes, eyes that took Bilbo straight back to a pair of large warm arms, a kind and handsome face, and the smell of smoke, spice and fresh cut grass. Thrain already had a small mop of glossy, wiry black hair. Bilbo had wanted to weep. He had thought he knew what it was like to overflow with love; now, he felt as though he could flood the whole of the Shire with it.

And then had come Belladonna. Slightly smaller than her brother, but not by much, Bella again had Bilbo’s ears and Thorin’s eyes, but in her Bilbo’s hair had made itself known; she had a shock of golden blonde curls. She hadn’t screamed or cried at all, which had worried him at first, but Lavender assured him that she was hale and whole, only a little on the quiet side. He had taken her in his other arm, and Thrain had quieted almost as soon as she appeared. She stared at them both, almost as if to say “Well? What next?”

Bilbo had laughed, and then he had cried, and then he had cried and laughed together and called Gandalf into the room. The Wizard’s eyes had crinkled up like raisins at the sight of the three of them. “Bilbo Baggins,” he had breathed. “Hobbits truly are extraordinary creatures.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! There will be more to come, as quick as I can write it.


	2. Birthday Cakes and Very Old Friends

Bilbo was in a tricky situation. Making birthday cakes was normally one of his favourite activities (he was rather good at it in fact, even if he did say so himself), but this particular birthday cake was beginning to get needlessly complicated. If he was to succeed, he was going to have to come up with a plan.

The twins' second birthday was fast approaching, and they were certainly not making it easy for him to keep any of his preparations a secret. Their first birthday had been - well, had been a piece of cake in comparison. They had still been gurgling babes, only just learning to totter on their tiny feet (which they had inherited from their other father), and had had no idea what was happening. They were being hugged and smiled at by a lot of strange people, and they were allowed to have a few more treats than usual, but otherwise they had noticed nothing out of the ordinary.

Most of the population of Hobbiton had turned out for Thrain and Bella's first birthday, even those who had favoured Bilbo and his offspring with more than a few dirty looks on every other day of the year before that. After all, general disapproval of half breed babes born to a male Hobbit out of wedlock was no reason to miss a good party. And it had been a good party - another breezy summer's day, just like the one they had been born on, with everyone (even the Sackville-Bagginses, unfortunately) gathering under the party tree for food, drink and dancing.

Thrain and Bella, in their smartly tailored birthday clothes (which they promptly managed to ruin, rolling around in the grass with the other fauntlings) were passed around all the adults to be cooed at and fussed over; Thrain with a very familiar looking frown on his face, and Bella with her sweet smile and curious grabbing fingers.

There had only been one moment to mar the day - even Lobelia had managed to keep her mouth shut for once. Bilbo had been left alone with his children for a minute or two as everybody gathered for Gandalf's fireworks. Standing with them under the party tree, watching them share out a handful of sweets that Lavender knew far better than to have given them, the strong feeling that Thorin was standing there too had suddenly washed over Bilbo like a tidal wave. The sensation was so pervasive that he had even turned around in a circle, looking for the source. But of course, the Dwarf was not there, and Bilbo couldn't tell if the ache in his chest was relief - or something else.

Luckily, Gandalf had chosen that exact moment to start setting off his fireworks, and Bilbo had lost himself in the delighted looks on the faces of his children as they marvelled at the coloured lights. Even Thrain, who often looked like a grumpy little so-and-so.

Bilbo's heart had twinged one last time. He had thought how glad he was that they would never have to see fire of an entirely different and more dangerous kind lighting up the sky.

Bilbo shook himself, and drew his thoughts back to the present.

"Da, can we have more pancakes?" asked Bella, looking up from the one she was currently eating, smearing syrup all over her chin. Bilbo put his hands on his hips and surveyed his breakfasting children.

"Well, I don't know. That depends on whether you're going to do a favour for me. Thrain, don't play with your food," said Bilbo, as his son picked up a piece of pancake and threw it into the air, catching it in his mouth. Secretly, Bilbo was quite impressed; he hadn't mastered that trick himself until the ripe old age of four.

"Favour?" said Thrain, wrapping his lips around the unfamiliar word with his mouth still full.

"Yes. I need you both to go next door today and visit your little friend Samwise. And, and-" he continued as they both nodded eagerly, "I need you to help Mrs Gamgee harvest all her strawberries. She said she would be picking them today, and I've no doubt that she'll be grateful for two more pairs of tiny hands to help." He reached out and tickled Bella's sticky palm, and was rewarded with a giggle.

"Now," he said, leaning down to rest his elbows on the table. "Do you think you can do that for me?"

Thrain and Bella turned to each other, having a silent conversation with their blue eyes. Then, as one, they turned back to Bilbo. "Yes Da," they said.

"Well then," said Bilbo, eyes twinkling. "More pancakes did you say?"

~

The twins had been safely packed off to next door's strawberry patch with a basket of shortbread and a note to Mrs Gamgee asking if she would very kindly keep them busy for long enough to allow Bilbo to get cracking with his cake. Now, what kind of cake should he make?

Bella's favourite was lemon and poppy seed sponge with sweet white icing, while Thrain had developed a marked preference for chocolate. Unfortunately, chocolate was rather scarce at the best of times, and expensive. Bilbo decided he would make a large lemon and poppy seed cake to be shared by everyone (this year's party was to be much smaller, and held at Bag End) and then a little chocolate cake, which he, Bella, Thrain, and perhaps the Gamgees would tuck into a bit later on.

He would have a good two or three hours before the twins came back (Bell Gamgee had a very big strawberry patch), so he collected his ingredients from the pantry and began measuring and mixing them at the kitchen table, safe in the knowledge that he would not be interrupted by any nosy Dwobbits (bless them). 

The three layers of the lemon and poppy seed sponge had just been taken out of the oven (light, golden and perfect, Bilbo was pleased to report) and the two layers of the chocolate cake were just on their way in, when there was a knock at the front door. Bilbo shut the oven as quickly and as gently as he could, and with a reassuring glance at the layers of sponge cooling on their wire racks, padded through into the hallway. 

He saw who it was through the window before he was even half way to the door; there was no mistaking that hat, after all.

"Gandalf!" he cried, flinging open the door and hugging the old Wizard around his knees. "We were so hoping you'd be here in time for their birthday,"

"Well, Master Baggins, you know I'd never pass up an opportunity to cavort with the good folk of the Shire," replied Gandalf, stepping gracefully inside (he had finally started to remember that Smials were not built for creatures of his stature). 

"You've caught me baking their birthday cakes, in fact," Bilbo continued, as he swung the door shut and headed back to the kitchen to get the kettle on.

"So it seems," said Gandalf, inhaling appreciatively as he followed the Hobbit. 

"Never fear; we can't eat the cakes yet, but I have plenty of biscuits here to welcome you with!" Bilbo proceeded to gather a selection of shortbread, custard creams and spiced cinnamon biscuits onto a plate. "Sit down, sit down old friend, and tell me all your news!"

It turned out that Gandalf had been spending time with Radagast and the Mirkwood Elves; there was still plenty of work to be done before the wood would be back to its old self.

"In fact, it may never completely return to how it was before the darkness touched it," said Gandalf, a heaviness upon his brow as he sucked at his pipe.

Bilbo frowned.

"We are none of us the same as we once were." He answered. "But that is not always such a bad thing."

"Certainly not," said Gandalf, his expression brightening. "Those two little Dwobbits I spied picking strawberries in next door's garden are living proof."

Bilbo gave a smile, but his eyes were tinged with sadness. Gandalf braced himself; it was time to speak up.

"Before journeying here, I stopped over at Erebor,"

Bilbo froze.

"The Dwarves-"

"Please, Gandalf, I don't want to hear it," said Bilbo, as kindly as he could manage. He stood and started bustling around, putting the plate next to the sink for cleaning.

"You may not want to, but I'm afraid you're going to," replied the Wizard, a little sharply. He'd had more than enough of Bilbo's nonsense. 

"The Dwarves are doing well. Very well, in fact," he continued. "More and more of their race are returning to the mountain, helping with the restoration. The company are finding their feet, getting back to their old trades and skills. Ori is doing particularly well, organising the old library."

Bilbo had stopped at the sink and gone a little pink in the face. He hadn't realised quite how much he had wanted to know what his old friends were doing now. He had told Thrain and Bella all about them, of course, and kept his memories of them fresh that way. He had even told them about Thorin, and his great deeds, but had neglected to mention the part he played in bringing about their birth. They were still too young to wonder too hard why they only had one parent, and Bilbo would cross that bridge when he came to it. But he had the horrible feeling it was drawing closer and closer; his children were too clever and curious for their own good.

As if reading his mind, Gandalf continued.

"You needn't worry that I have told Thorin about the children. I have kept your confidence, even though I disagree with your decision."

Bilbo took a deep breath, and turned to face the Wizard.

"You say that he has changed. That he fought off the gold sickness. And became the Thorin we all knew before, the Thorin that I... the Thorin that I loved. But you didn't see the look in his eyes that day, when he held me over the edge by my throat. When he called me all manner of hideous things, and vowed never to see me again, or to even allow me through the gates of Erebor. He hated me, Gandalf. All the love he had given to me was gone in that moment, washed away like, like sandcastles on a beach. He only had room in his heart for gold, for the mountain and for gold. And that poisonous stone they have the nerve to call the King's jewel!"

Bilbo had tears welling in his eyes now, and his voice had risen to a near shout.

"That night in Laketown he told me that I was his jewel."

Gandalf said nothing. Bilbo swallowed his tears, and tried to catch his breath.

"I won't risk the safety and happiness of my children, Gandalf. Not for anyone."

The Wizard looked down at his empty tea cup, and gave a slow nod.

"I understand Bilbo. I'm....I'm sorry."

"It is I who should be apologising to you, my friend." Bilbo put a hand on the Wizard's shoulder, before taking his seat at the table again. "I know you only have my best interests at heart. At least, these days you do," the Hobbit said, shooting a wry glance at Gandalf's face. The Wizard gave a smirk.

"I take your point, Bilbo. I'll not be sending you off to fight any more dragons; I think you've had enough of that sort of thing for one lifetime."

Bilbo smiled, and poured more tea.

"There is just one more thing," said Gandalf, "and then I'll be silent on the subject, I promise."

Bilbo raised his eyebrows, questioning.

"I bear a letter for you- no, no, it's not from Thorin," he reassured, as Bilbo started to shake his head. "It is, in fact, from Balin." Gandalf drew a small scroll sealed with dark red wax out of his baggy sleeve.

Bilbo eyed it warily for a few moments before reaching out and taking it.

"It's only a letter, Bilbo," said the Wizard. "It won't breathe fire on you." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a touch more angsty than I'd intended (don't worry, it'll all come right in the end!). Join me for the next chapter when we'll find out what's in Balin's letter.


	3. The Letter from the East

Bilbo had only just finished hiding the birthday cakes in the pantry (behind some jars of pickled gherkins) when the back door banged open, and what sounded like a small herd of ponies galloped into the west hall. Bilbo met the ponies in the atrium, and relieved them of their basket, now loaded with strawberries instead of shortbread. The faces and hands of the fauntlings were sticky with juice, and there were more than a few red smears on their clothing.

"Did you have fun?" he asked.

"Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes," Bella chanted, jumping up and down. Suddenly she stopped, looking at something behind Bilbo.

"Well, little ones - do you remember me?" asked Gandalf, wandering out of the kitchen.

"Gandalf!" Bella shrieked, toddling towards the wizard as fast as her little legs could carry her. Chuckling, Gandalf picked her up and lifted her so high that for a moment Bilbo was worried her head would hit the ceiling.

Thrain, who had clung to Bilbo's leg as soon as he noticed someone else was there, peeked out at the sound of Bella's hysterical giggling.

"Go on, lad," murmured Bilbo, putting a hand on his son's shoulder. "It's only Gandalf. The fireworks man, you remember?"

At the word 'fireworks', the light of recognition dawned, and Thrain wandered cautiously over to the Wizard, who put Bella down and bent to give him a kind look.

"And here's young Master Baggins," he said, holding out his hand, which Thrain solemnly shook.

After Bilbo had scrubbed the children's faces and hands, and got them into some fresh clothes, they all sat down to a lunch of cold ham, salad, cheese and soft white bread. The rest of the day was mostly given over to crowding around Gandalf and begging him for stories. Thrain got over his shyness quite quickly, and was soon sitting on one of the Wizard's large knees (his sister on the other one), listening to tales about Elves and Ents, and even occasionally Dwarves. Sam Gamgee and his mother popped over around tea time, and Bilbo put on a small spread of cucumber sandwiches and fairy cakes (he made sure to take Bell aside and quietly thank her for taking the twins off his hands that morning).

All the while, Bilbo's mind kept jumping to the small sealed scroll he had left on the desk in his study. Half of him was itching to read it; the other half was not quite so keen, and would rather listen to just one more of Gandalf's stories first.

Later, after the Gamgees had gone home, and the twins had finally agreed to go to bed, Bilbo showed Gandalf to the spare room he had slept in during Bilbo's pregnancy.

"I'm sorry, but the bed hasn't gotten any larger since you were last here," said Bilbo, lighting a candle on the bedside table. Gandalf grimaced a little, remembering the aches and pains he had developed from folding himself into a Hobbit sized bed for so many months. Well, he reasoned, he could stand it for a few nights.

"No matter," he replied. "A small bed is a small price to pay for being able to keep such excellent company. Goodnight, Bilbo." Bilbo smiled.

"Goodnight, Gandalf," he said, and carried his own candle out of the room.

Well, there was no getting away from it. He'd have to read the letter now.

~

After pacing around his study a few times, then rushing to the pantry to pour himself a glass of sherry (or two), then rushing back and pacing around his study a few more times, Bilbo finally sat down at the desk.

"Come on Bilbo," he murmured to himself. "You can handle this."

He picked up the scroll and broke the seal. Immediately, another smaller scroll fell out and rolled across the desk, hitting his sherry glass with a ting! of crystal.

"One step at a time, old fellow," Bilbo breathed, tearing his eyes away from the second scroll.

He took a deep breath, unrolled the larger of the two scrolls, and began to read.

 

My dear Master Baggins,

I sincerely hope that this letter will not be totally unwelcome. Unfortunately, I expect that it shall be at least slightly unwelcome, considering the manner in which you were treated by the company -  and particularly by Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain - at our last meeting. However, you have been much upon my mind of late, and finally I resolved that I had to write, even if my letter should remind you of happenings you would rather forget.

You will be glad to know, I am sure, that the restoration of the Mountain continues apace. There is much work still be done but, Mahal willing, there will be generations of Dwarrow here to do it. Generations who, as I and many others know, would not have been able to return to Erebor if it had not been for the deeds of a certain burglar. You have the undying gratitude of all Dwarves for what you have done for our race.

It weighs heavily upon me (and upon a few others I could name) that we are not in regular contact with you, who have been such a great friend to all of us. I would like to reassure you that our estrangement does not stem from any lasting resentment on our part, although it may on yours - for which none of us would blame you. However, I have taken this opportunity to contact you via our mutual friend Gandalf, in the hope that our friendship may be rekindled.

Of course, should you feel you do not want to reacquaint yourself with me or any of my fellow Dwarves, we would be saddened, but we would understand.

Ever your friend,

Balin

Son of Fundin

 

His hand trembling a little, Bilbo reached for the glass and took a small swig of sherry. Well, that had been fairly painless. He let his eyes rest on the three words Balin had chosen to sign off with, and his cheeks warmed slightly.  _Ever your friend_.

He had expected the letter to contain an offer to rekindle his friendship with the Dwarves. Balin had been very careful with his choice of words; there was no outright apology for the way he had been treated, but the spaces between every line seemed to offer contrition, and ask for forgiveness. Bilbo even felt a little guilty; he was sure the Dwarves were due an apology from him as well. He had acted badly, even if he had been forced into it.

Well, at least there had been no invitation for him to come to Erebor, or a post-script warning him of the imminent arrival of a whole bunch of Dwarrow. Apart from anything else, he wasn't sure his pantry could take the strain. He reached for his sherry glass again, and his eyes caught on the second scroll. Oops. Forgot about that one.

"Oh well, in for a penny," he said, and picked it up.

 

Dear Bilbo,

I asked Fili to write this note, as he is much better at this sort of thing than I am, but he would have no part of it. He says that you clearly want to be left alone or you would already have come back to see us, and so we should just let you be.

But I think you deserve to know how badly we all feel about what happened. Even at the time, when we didn't understand why you stole the Arkenstone, we thought Uncle was treating you very harshly, especially considering that he loved you so much. Sorry for being blunt, Bilbo, but I don't know any other way to be, and it was pretty obvious - at least to Fi and me, if not to anyone else - how much you and Uncle adored each other.

You left in secret, before we had woken after the battle, but if you had stayed I am sure you would have seen how much better Uncle was even then. He was practically his old self, and he wouldn't have let your banishment stand. He didn't even remember threatening to throw you off the Mountain at first; we had to remind him. Anyway, I won't beat around the bush. Uncle is bloody miserable. He's fought off the gold sickness for now, but it's clear that if things carry on this way, he might weaken and fall back into it.

He needs you, Uncle Bilbo. Please, come home to Erebor.

Kili (and Fili)

 

To his complete surprise, Bilbo found he was grinning like a fool.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm overwhelmed by all the hits, kudos and comments! I'm so glad you're enjoying reading the story as much as I'm enjoying writing it.
> 
> For anyone wondering about the layout of Bag End, I'm using Weta's floor plan (just Google image 'bag end map' and it'll pop up).


	4. Words in the Smoking Room

Bilbo was pacing again. This time in the smoking room with a lit pipe in his hand, a curling trail of pale blue smoke wreathing around him as he stepped. His expression alternated between the beaming grin he had found himself wearing after finishing Kili’s letter, and a rather confused frown. Occasionally the grin and the frown would both appear on his face at the same time. Apart from making him look more like an unwell Orc than a Hobbit, it was beginning to give him a headache.

Abruptly he stopped in the middle of the room, and looked to the ceiling as if he had suddenly had an idea. Then he frowned again, shook his head, and continued pacing. Gandalf, who had been standing in the doorway watching this display for a few minutes now, rolled his eyes and coughed. Bilbo jumped, a small cloud of ash flying out of his pipe.

“Gandalf! How long have you been there?”

“Long enough,” replied the Wizard.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” said Bilbo, apologetically.

“Well,” Gandalf stooped into the room and headed for the fireplace. “Considering my bedroom is only the next door along, I could hardly fail to be woken by a stressed Hobbit rattling around and smoking at this hour of the night.”

Gandalf reached for a small box of matches and a few twists of paper resting on the mantelpiece, and set about lighting a small fire in the grate. It was only a little chilly, but Bilbo had been bumbling around in near darkness quite enough for one night.

“I’m sorry, Gandalf.” Bilbo flumped down into one of the armchairs. “It’s only that I… Well, that I have-”

“I imagine that you have recently finished reading Balin’s letter, as well as the second letter from Kili that I managed to secrete inside it,” interrupted the Wizard.

“I- well, yes that’s exactly it,” said Bilbo, running a hand through his unruly curls. “I can’t think what to do next, Gandalf, I really can’t.”

The Wizard lit his own pipe and sat down opposite the Hobbit.

“I suppose I don’t even need to tell you what’s in them, seeing as you’re so clever,” said Bilbo, reaching into his pocket for the two scrolls, which were already becoming quite rumpled from repeated furling and unfurling. “You’d better read them in any case.”

Gandalf took the letters and read over them quickly. Balin’s letter, polite and restrained, was exactly what he had thought it would be, as was Kili’s. The image of the young Dwarf swam into his mind, his eyes as large and bright as a puppy’s as he watched Gandalf poke his letter carefully inside Balin’s.

“Hm,” he said, handing the letters back to Bilbo.

“That’s all you’re going to say? Hm?” said Bilbo, agitatedly. “What in Yavanna’s name am I going to do?”

“Well, you know what I’m going to say, don’t you?”

“Oh yes, yes,” said Bilbo, shifting uncomfortably. “You’re going to say I should have just told everybody the truth from the very beginning and then I wouldn’t be in this ruddy awful mess now. It’s a little late for that, in case you hadn’t noticed!

“And besides,” Bilbo continued, brandishing his pipe. “I’m still not convinced I did the wrong thing. Kili even says he’s worried that Thorin might be succumbing to the sickness again. There’s no reason to think that I could do anything to stop it. I couldn’t before, could I?"

"Kili does call you his uncle," Gandalf pointed out, gently. "Did you notice that?"

Bilbo gave the Wizard a look.

"Yes, Gandalf, I did notice that." The Hobbit was using a muted tone, presumably fearful of waking the twins. "I named my son Thrain. Did you notice that?" 

He gave Gandalf a little smile, not wanting to argue with his friend. Gandalf smiled back.

"Yes, Bilbo. I did notice that."

They sat in silence for a little while, smoking their pipes and listening to the crackling of the fire.

"What if he's wrong?" Bilbo continued suddenly, his voice trembling a little. "What if you're both wrong? If I were to tell them - about the children, I mean - who's to say Thorin wouldn't be so angry I'd kept them from him that he'd just banish me all over again? How could I put the children through that?"

Bilbo's eyes glimmered wetly in the soft light.

"What if he tried to take them from me?" The Hobbit's voice was little more than a whisper.

Gandalf frowned.

The last time the Wizard had seen Thorin Oakenshield had been only a few weeks ago, at dinner the night before he left Erebor for the Shire. Thorin had known that the Shire was Gandalf’s destination, but had not offered any letters or words for him to carry to Bilbo. Instead he had just sat at the head of the table, his eyes downcast, picking at his food and occasionally exchanging a word or a small smile with members of the company. No, Gandalf thought. That was not the manner of a Dwarf who would ever do anything so truly terrible as separating Bilbo from his children, no matter how angry he became at first. Thorin had learned his lesson about being quick to anger, and learned it the hard way.

“Oh Bilbo,” he said. “Surely you must know Thorin could never do something like that to you? To anyone?”

Bilbo stared at the fire. A single tear crept from the corner of his eye, and rolled slowly down his rounded cheek.

“Yes, Kili says he’s worried that Thorin might get ill again. But only because you’re not there with him. Thorin has been struggling against this sickness for most of his life, and he cannot succeed against it without help. He has his friends, and what remains of his family, but it’s not enough. He needs _you_ , Bilbo. He needs those two children. What better reason to fight off the illness completely could he possibly have?”

Bilbo glanced up at the Wizard, but still said nothing.

“You are better together, Bilbo. Without you, he will succumb to the gold sickness again. And without him, look at what you have become. A Hobbit ready to suspect the Dwarf he once loved, the father of his children, capable of stealing them away?"

Bilbo was still silent, staring down at the embers in the bowl of his pipe as they faded out, one by one. Gandalf was wondering whether he had gone too far when Bilbo quietly spoke.

“I didn’t once love him,” he said. "I love him still.”

A log in the fire cracked in the heat with a loud pop.

“Da?” there came a little voice from the doorway.

Wizard and Hobbit both looked up.

The twins were standing there in their nightshirts, Bella rubbing at her eyes and yawning, while Thrain looked curiously back and forth between Bilbo and Gandalf.

“Oh dear,” Bilbo sighed. “Did we wake you up?”

The children nodded. Bilbo put down his pipe and stood, looking over at the Wizard.

“Perhaps we’d better continue this conversation another time.”

The Wizard nodded. Wandering over to the doorway, Bilbo picked Bella up and took Thrain’s hand in his, meaning to take them back to their beds.

"Night, Mister Gandalf," said Bella, peeping over Bilbo's shoulder.

"Goodnight, little ones," the Wizard replied.

He listened as the little family made their way through the Smial.

“Da?” said Thrain.

“Yes?”

“I’m hungry.”


	5. The Broken Soldier

The next afternoon Gandalf had elected to disappear into Hobbiton on some mysterious errand, and Bilbo was sitting cross-legged in the garden of Bag End, playing Bella’s favourite game. She was lying on her back on the bright green grass, errant blades of it stuck in her golden curls, giggling and wriggling happily as she anticipated Bilbo’s next move.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes Da!”

“Alright then. Here it comes!”

Bilbo pinched two corners of the large square silk scarf he was holding, and flung it out into the air above Bella, letting it slowly fall until it covered her small form completely. Nary a bit of young Dwobbit was to be seen.

Bella had let out a peal of laughter as soon as the scarf had unfurled, and was now lying underneath it, chuckling delightedly to herself.

Bilbo couldn’t help but beam at her unseen form. He had no idea why she loved this game so much; he only knew that he had loved it too when he played it with his mother fifty years ago, using the very same scarf. Thrain had adored it also – in fact, the scarf was still big enough to fit both of them underneath it at the same time – but lately he seemed more interested in playing with his wooden figures.

Hobbits, Elves, Dwarves, Men, Orcs, Goblins. Thrain and Bella had inherited them all from Bilbo, who had inherited them all from his father and mother, and so on and so on. The Baggins family were now in possession of one of the most impressive wooden toy collections in the Shire. Many of them had been carved more than a century ago.

Thrain was using his Elves to attack Samwise Gamgee’s Goblins, who appeared to have taken up residence on Bilbo’s rockery. Sam was a good few years older than the twins, but he certainly wasn’t above playing with the famous Baggins figurines when he got the chance.

Bilbo turned back to Bella, reaching down to tickle her while she still lay under the scarf. Suddenly there was a small cry of dismay from the rockery.

“Oh Thrain, look, we’ve broken him!”

Bilbo looked up. Apparently, Sam and Thrain had been making the Goblin leader engage in furious hand-to-hand combat with one of the Elves, and the Elf had unfortunately come off worse. One of his legs had snapped clean off, and he was now hopping around on only one.

Bella wriggled herself out from under the scarf, and joined Bilbo in heading over to the rockery to inspect the casualty. Thrain looked up at his Da with a slightly guilty expression, expecting a scolding (the Elf was one of the older and more precious of the figurines). Bilbo crouched down and took the figurine from his son.

“Oh dear,” he said, looking over the damage.

The figurine had been one of Bilbo’s favourites when he was a lad. A tall, blonde Elf with a proud but cheerful expression, he reminded Bilbo now of Thranduil’s son, Prince Legolas. It wasn’t the first time he had received a bit of a war wound; Bilbo himself had managed to snap off the thin curved wooden blade he had been holding during a particularly enthusiastic re-enactment of some great battle or other – Bilbo could no longer remember which one.

Bilbo smiled at his son.

“Nevermind, eh? Hand me his leg, we’ll see if we can’t get it stuck back on somehow. Perhaps that’s enough Goblin battles for today? Shall we have jam sandwiches?”

Relieved that they weren’t going to get a telling off, Sam and Thrain readily agreed to stop playing and come in for tea. Bilbo set them all up at the table with a plate full of sandwiches and some glasses of milk fresh from the cold cellar.

Bilbo took the battered Elven soldier and his leg into his study, and placed them carefully on a little tray on his desk. Pondering how he was going to fix the toy, Bilbo thought to himself: _what I really need right now is a Bofur._

Bofur had always been whittling away at some piece of wood or other when they were on the quest, and during his conversations with the other Dwarves Bilbo had discovered that Bofur and his hand-carved toys and sculptures were very highly thought of.

Thinking of the Dwarves made his fingers twitch, itching to get hold of a pen and reply to Balin and Kili. He was overwhelmed with a sudden rushing desire to just tell Balin everything that had gone on in the last three years. He wanted to blurt out his happiness at having two little children to call his own, to gush over how proud he was of Thrain's quick learning and cleverness, of Bella's kindness and sweet nature.

He wanted to voice his worries too; his concerns over Thrain's strangely reticent manner of late, for instance. And what he was going to say to them both when they finally began to notice their difference from the other fauntlings (perhaps they already had). He felt suddenly crushed under the weight of a secret burden he didn't know he had been carrying. He would have given anything to be able to pour it all onto the paper for Balin to read.

Above all he imagined the delight of Kili upon learning that he had cousins.

He picked up the broken soldier, feeling the pieces of dry old wood clack together between his fingers, and made up his mind.

~

Gandalf ducked back into Bag End about half an hour later, carrying a large bundle under one arm and smiling to himself as he planned what he was going to do tomorrow at the twins’ birthday party. Passing the door to Bilbo’s study, he glimpsed the Hobbit hunched over his desk, busily scribbling away with his tongue between his teeth and a rather intense look in his eyes.

Humming to himself, the Wizard stashed his bundle away and went to see what mischief the children were up to in their father’s absence.

~

About an hour after that, Bilbo was back in the garden again, watching Gandalf play hide and seek with the children. The Wizard kept losing rather quickly because of his hat’s propensity to stick out from behind trees and bushes (although Bilbo had the feeling he was keeping the hat on for exactly that reason).

Both of the letters he had just written were safely tucked into the post box at the end of Bagshot Row, waiting to begin their long journey east. When it came to it, Bilbo had decided not to drop the surprise of Thrain and Bella into his very first letter to the Dwarves. He hoped that he would eventually be able to tell the whole truth, once their friendship had been properly re-established.

He had written Kili’s reply first.

 

My dear Kili (and Fili)

You have no idea how pleased I was to receive your letter. I found myself imagining your voice as I read it, and it was almost as though we had never been apart.

I want to say sorry too, for leaving the way I did. I stayed only until I was sure that both of you and your uncle would survive your wounds. I hope you can understand what I was feeling then, and that you will forgive me.

I would very much like to be able to return to Erebor to see you all – including your uncle, in spite of any differences that may remain between us. But there have been certain developments in my life since you last saw me that mean I have to stay in the Shire for at least the foreseeable future.

However, I would very much like it if you (and perhaps the rest of the company too) would continue to write to me and tell me all of your news. I’m especially interested to know all about your adventures since the reclaiming of Erebor, and all the new friends I’m sure you must have made since Dwarves began returning to the mountain.

Your friend, always,

Bilbo Baggins

 

His letter to Balin had a bit more of a serious tone.

 

Dear Balin,

You need not worry yourself so. While your letter was certainly a surprise to me, it was far from unwelcome. I too have been thinking about my Dwarrow friends a lot in recent days, wondering how you all are, and so it is a great pleasure to know that you are all thriving in Erebor.

Any disagreements existing between myself and Thorin certainly do not mean that my feelings for any of you have changed. Indeed, I consider you all to be my very great friends, and am only sorry that I left in the manner that I did, and that I have allowed this silence between us to last so long.

You will readily understand that certain circumstances I found myself in upon my return to the Shire have taken up a great portion of my time, and I am therefore unable to travel long distances. This will unfortunately prevent my coming to see you all at Erebor, although I must admit I do long to see what all of your hard work has wrought upon the sad and beautiful ruins of the city.

I am very much looking forward to your reply, and please do make it known to the rest of the company that letters from them would be very well received at Bag End.

Your friend, always,

Bilbo Baggins

 

After his children began to grow tired, Bilbo helped them gather up the remaining wooden figures and return them to their box. Last to go in was a brace of Dwarves, all chunky angular carving, each holding a stout axe, their faces half hidden behind their thick beards.


	6. The Whole World is a Garden

The twins’ birthday dawned bright and sunny, for which Bilbo was glad, as they were planning on most of the party taking place in the garden. He managed to wake up before the twins in order to ice the cakes. He was hoping to have them hidden back in the cupboard before they awoke, but Bella wandered in just as he was putting the finishing touches to the big lemon and poppy seed cake.

“Oh Da!” She gasped. “Is that for our birthday tea?”

“Yes, poppet,” Bilbo smiled. “It was supposed to be a surprise, but never mind! Here, if I lift you up can you help me with the last slice of candied lemon?”

Bella nodded eagerly, and Bilbo lifted her so she could reach the very centre of the cake to position the last candied lemon slice. She licked the sugar from her fingers, and Bilbo rubbed his nose against hers in the traditional Hobbit signal of affection.

“Happy birthday, sweet one,” he whispered.

Thrain came into the kitchen rubbing his eyes, and Bilbo knelt down to rub his nose against his son’s.

“And happy birthday to you, too,”

“Thanks Da,” said Thrain, favouring him with a little smile.

“I suppose you two want your birthday breakfast, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes please!” shouted Bella, still clinging to Bilbo’s shoulder.

“You can have whatever you like, seeing as it’s your birthday.”

“Pancakes?”

“Pancakes? Again? Oh very well. If that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get.”

 

~

 

Gandalf joined them at the table for the pancakes (and the maple syrup, and the strawberries and blueberries and the odd slice of bacon too) and then, once Bilbo had dressed the children in their birthday clothes and made them promise not to get them dirty, the Wizard took the twins out to the field behind Bag End to gather wild flowers for their guests, giving Bilbo a chance to start preparing the party food.

The flower gathering had been Bella’s idea. It was traditional for Hobbits celebrating their birthdays to give presents to others; being very young, Thrain and Bella were of course excused from the tradition. However, Bella had thought it would be nice to have just a small something to give to all of their party guests, and so the children ran about in the field (Bella in her pale blue frock, and Thrain in his green velvet jacket) picking little bunches of colourful wildflowers to give as tokens.

When they came back, all of them (including the Wizard) were also wearing woven flower crowns.

“We made one for you too, Da,” said Bella, pulling at Bilbo’s trouser leg until he knelt down to have the crown of daisies and forget-me-nots placed on his head.

Bilbo had not been idle while they were away; three large trestle tables were set up in the garden, each covered with the very best sweetmeats the larder (and Hobbiton Market) had to offer. Sandwiches, sausage rolls, at least four different types of cheeses, several loaves of Bilbo’s best soft bread, scones with jam and cream, a bushel of Bilbo’s prize tomatoes, little lace butter biscuits that melted on the tongue, and flagons of cold drinks (fruit ciders for the adults, fruit juices for the children). The centrepiece of the whole affair was, of course, the lemon and poppy seed cake, with a large pile of plates and forks so that everybody could help themselves.

There was no set hour for the party to begin, but as luck would have it guests began arriving just after Bilbo had finished getting everything ready. First to arrive were the Gamgees, of course, along with Sam, the rest of their brood, and a small flagon of the Gaffer’s home brew. Then Lavender and many of the Bracegirdles, a random assortment of Brandybucks, a few Cottons, the Greenhands, and almost every Took that was within a ten mile radius. Bilbo was saddened to see that his cousins Drogo and Prim hadn’t made it with their little Frodo, but then they did live quite far away and had sent a note offering their congratulations and apologies. Lobelia and Otho Sackville-Baggins did show up for an hour or so mid-afternoon, but seemed content to merely drink Bilbo’s cider rather than head off into the depths of Bag End to hunt for treasure.

“Thank Heavens for that,” said Hamfast Gamgee as he watched the Sackville-Bagginses take their leave. He poured Bilbo another cup of his home-brew (only a small one mind, this was a children’s party, after all) and joined him in watching the children play their games.

At that particular moment a large game of ‘Pass the Parcel’ was taking place, with one of the Greenhands playing the flute, and stopping at random intervals for the child holding the parcel to unwrap another layer.

“What’s in the parcel?” Hamfast muttered to Bilbo.

“It’s a bag of Mrs Goodbody’s extra sour sherbet lemons,” Bilbo muttered back, before taking a sip of his brew.

“Ha, they’ll have some fun with those and no mistake.”

Hamfast glanced over to the hedge that surrounded Bilbo’s garden.

“Your Thrain’s looking a bit glum,” he said, pointing.

Bilbo followed the direction of Hamfast’s finger, and saw his son standing at the edge of proceedings, watching the game with a frown on his face.

“Oh dear,” said Bilbo, handing his cup to Hamfast. “I’d better go and see what’s afoot,”

Bilbo went over to his son, and crouched down next to him.

“Don’t you want play with the others?”

Thrain shook his head vehemently.

“Why not? Is there something wrong?”

Thrain shook his head again, but Bilbo could see something was really bothering him.

“Come on Thrain, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I…” Thrain began. “I don’t know. It’s just….well, I’m not the same as them. Bella and me, we aren’t the same as them, are we?”

Bilbo raised his eyebrows.

“What do you mean, you’re not the same?”

“They’ve all got much bigger feet than us. And their ears are pointier, and their hair’s different…I don’t understand why,” said Thrain, his little voice starting to strain with the effort of not bursting into tears.

“Oh dear,” Bilbo sighed, putting an arm around his son’s shoulder. “I think it’s time that you, your sister and I had a talk, hmm?”

Thrain gave one of his serious little nods, and wiped his eyes. Bilbo lifted him onto his hip, and went over to the ‘Pass the Parcel’ circle to collect Bella. He took them both to the bench at the front of Bag End, and sat them down on either side of him. This was going to be hard for his children to understand, he knew, so he was going to have to give it to them in small doses.

“Now then,” he began. “Thrain has been asking me a few questions about some important things, so I wanted to have you both here when I answered them. You know how Sam, and Rosie, and Pippin and all your other friends each have a Ma and a Da?”

A pair of serious little nods.

“And you two just have a Da. It’s just me and both of you living at Bag End.”

Nods.

“Well. The truth is that you two are very, very special. Because you never had a Ma.”

“We didn’t?” asked Bella, popping her thumb out of her mouth.

“No.” Bilbo took a deep breath. “But you do have another Da.”

“Another Da?” said Bella.

“You mean, we have two Das? Another Da just like you?” Thrain asked, puzzled.

“No, poppet, not just like me. You’ve never met him because he lives very far away, but I have told you about him before. His name is Thorin Oakenshield.”

Thrain stared.

“The Dwarf from the story?”

“That’s right.”

“The one with the big shield and the sword? The one you saved from the Orcs?”

Bilbo smiled.

“Yes, that’s it exactly. Thorin and me, well, we loved each other very, very much. And so we decided to make you.”

“But why doesn’t he live with us?” asked Bella, her eyes as round as marbles.

“Well, he’s King Under the Mountain now, you remember? He’s been very busy rebuilding the city of Erebor, where he lives. So he couldn’t come here to live with us. But I do hope very much that one day, when you’re a bit older, you’ll be able to go to Erebor and meet him.”

“Go to Erebor?” Thrain’s blue eyes sparkled at the very thought. Something seemed to occur to him, and he squinted at Bilbo.

“But Da, if our other Da’s a Dwarf, does that mean we’re Dwarves too?”

“Not quite, dear-”

“Is that why my feet are so small?”

“Well, yes, that’s why you’ve been noticing a few differences between yourself and the other young Hobbits. But you’re not Dwarves, Thrain, you’re only half Dwarves. The other half of you is most definitely Hobbit, if your appetites are anything to go by.”

Bella seemed intrigued, and vaguely pleased by the news of her Dwarvish status. Thrain was wearing a look which suggested that a lot of puzzle pieces were clicking together in his head.

The little family sat in silence for a moment.

“Look,” said Bilbo, shifting slightly on the bench. “Let me explain something to you.”

He began to point at various areas of the garden.

“Do you see those roses over there? And those poppies over there? And the runner beans, and the dandelions, and the daisies, and the tomatoes, and all the other plants?”

Nods.

“They come in all different shapes, sizes, and colours, don’t they? But it takes all of them to make the garden. It’s just the same with the peoples of Middle Earth. The Men, the Elves, the Hobbits, and the Dwarves - we’re all different, but it takes all of us to make the world. That might be a bit complicated for you to understand, but-”

“No, Da,” Thrain interrupted. “I understand.”

Bella frowned to herself.

“I suppose…” she began.

“Yes? What do you suppose?” Bilbo prompted.

“Then…the whole world is a garden,” she finished. “Isn’t it, Da?”

Bilbo felt himself start to well up a little, and he put an arm around each of his children.

“Yes,” he said. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

 

~

 

Bilbo breathed a sigh of relief. That hadn’t been nearly as painful as he’d thought it would be. There had been no consternation, or awkward questions about how two males could have children, or how children were made in the first place (Bilbo supposed those would come later - much later, he hoped).

Perhaps it had been a little unfair to tell the twins that he and Thorin had planned to have them, but that couldn’t be helped. They were still a bit too young to really get to grips with all the details of how they came to be, and at least now they knew they had ‘another Da’.

Bilbo had noticed a marked change in Thrain’s behaviour almost immediately. As the children returned to the party games, he could see his son was somehow cheerier, more energetic, and even standing a little straighter than he had before.

Later, when it had got dark enough for Gandalf to let off his fireworks (he had produced a large bundle of them from somewhere after spending all day telling the children he had rather unfortunately ‘run out of magic’), Bilbo placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Thrain thought for a moment.

“I’m happy, Da. I’m happy I’m a Dwarf. I mean, half a Dwarf.”

“A Dwobbit,” Bilbo corrected.

“A Dwobbit!” Bella exclaimed, jumping on the new word.

Thrain giggled, a sound that had been pretty rare in Bag End of late.

“I think I’ll like being a Dwobbit,” he said.

“I think you will too.”

“Will I grow a beard? Will Bella?”

Bella snorted with amusement. Bilbo gave a laugh.

“I’m not sure, dear. We’ll have to wait and see. I’m almost certain you’ll grow taller than any Hobbit has ever been, anyway.”

“Taller than you?”

“I should think so,” Bilbo crouched down to the same level as his children. “I think one day you’ll both be taller than me. And you’ll be able to pick me up and carry me, just like I carry you now.”

Bella laughed at the thought.

BOOM! Gandalf’s firework display began to light up the sky. Hobbits for miles around peeked out of their windows to watch the multi-coloured flowers of all different shapes and sizes bursting above Bag End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you hankering for the appearance of the Dwarves, at least some of them will be showing up in the next chapter...XXX


	7. A Dwarf in the Tomato Patch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for all your lovely comments - I love that you're enjoying the story, and hearing what you think is going to happen next! Apologies for not replying to them all, real life stuff has put more demands on my time lately, but I do read every single one. As a special treat I stuck a fluffy flashback into this chapter. I hope you enjoy...

After all the excitement was over, Bilbo lay in his bed and allowed himself to relive a few memories of the day…

…The children discovering that an extra sour sherbet lemon, when combined with a mouthful of lemonade, will explode and fizz in the mouth in the most amusing manner…the way Thrain’s eyes had lit up when Bilbo had produced the surprise chocolate cake…Gandalf creating golden butterflies for the little ones (and quite a few of the bigger ones) to chase through the orchard. And, of course, how happy Bella and Thrain had been to learn that Thorin Oakenshield was their other father.

Thorin Oakenshield.

Bilbo snuggled a little further into his mattress, and began to indulge himself in memories of a different kind. Up until now, thinking of the happier times with Thorin had always caused him pain. Now, he felt a certain ‘glowy’ sort of sensation, just behind his eyes.

 

_A light rain was pattering on the roof._

_“Snuffle.”_

_“What are you wriggling around for?”_

_“Hm, the hair on your chest is tickling my nose.”_

_Thorin gave a low laugh as Bilbo tried to flatten down a patch of hair before resting his head back onto the Dwarf’s chest._

_“Perhaps I could shave you. Just this corner here, so I would have somewhere to rest my head without risking an attack of the sneezes.”_

_“Go anywhere near my chest hair with any kind of blade, and I’ll shave your feet while you’re asleep.”_

_“Fair enough.”_

_A moment of silence as the rain pitter-pattered down._

_“You should grow the hair on your head longer,” said Thorin._

_“Hmm? Why?”_

_“So that I can put a courting braid in it.”_

_“A what?”_

_“A courting braid. Dwarven braids have all sorts of meanings; they can indicate status, place of birth, things like that. Dwarves who have consented to court generally put braids in each other’s hair, fastened with specially made clasps, which also have meaning.”_

_“I didn’t know any of that,” said Bilbo, tracing patterns on Thorin’s chest with a fingertip._

_“Of course if you’d rather not-”_

_“No, no, I want to.” Bilbo interrupted. “It’s just that-” the Hobbit sat up in the bed, and stared down at the Dwarf King._

_“Thorin, are you sure you want to do this? To do this with me, I mean.”_

_Thorin stared at him._

_“Of course. I wouldn’t have asked you otherwise.”_

_“Well I know that you’re certain – and I certainly am too,” he smiled. “But what about other Dwarves? Will they just accept the fact that their King is courting a Hobbit?”_

_Thorin frowned._

_“It is true there are some who might disagree with my choice, or be offended by it. None of the company, of course, but others might have something to say against it when we return to the Mountain.”_

_Thorin had said ‘when’, not ‘if’, Bilbo noted._

_“Will it cause problems, do you think? Wars have been fought over less,” said Bilbo, his small hands resting flat on Thorin’s chest. Thorin reached up and enveloped them in his much larger ones._

_“I would gladly fight a war for you, Bilbo Baggins.”_

_Bilbo flushed._

_“I know you wouldn’t want me to, but I would do it all the same,” continued the Dwarf, his blue eyes staring deeply at Bilbo._

_Leaning down, Bilbo placed a careful kiss on Thorin’s lips. The Dwarf wrapped his arms around his Hobbit, running one hand through his curls, and kissed a trail along Bilbo’s jaw down to his neck. Bilbo giggled and pressed his face against Thorin, relaxing so that he was lying on top of the Dwarf._

_Thorin held him there, basking in the warmth as the Hobbit draped over him like a blanket. He stroked his fingers though Bilbo’s hair, and gradually the Hobbit’s worries seemed to melt away._

_“When did you know?” said Bilbo suddenly._

_“Hm? What?” said Thorin, who had started to drift off to sleep._

_“When did you know, that you felt more than friendship for me?”_

_Thorin favoured the ceiling with small smile._

_“At the Carrock, I suppose. But I didn’t really know until Mirkwood.”_

_Bilbo nodded against Thorin’s shoulder._

_“And you?” asked the Dwarf._

_“Me? I knew… from the minute you walked through my front door and called me a grocer.”_

_Thorin gave a snort, kissed Bilbo’s curls, and squeezed him tighter._

 

Bilbo fell asleep in his bed at Bag End, listening to the sounds of a Laketown rain from over two years in the past.

 

~

 

Three weeks later, Gandalf decided to take his leave.

He and Bilbo were walking leisurely through the woods, following the course of a little stream, when the Wizard informed him that he would be heading back to Mirkwood.

“There is still much to be done,” said the Wizard, with a grave sigh.

Thrain and Bella were a little distance ahead of them, wading along the sandy-bottomed stream, which was so shallow that it only came up to their ankles.

“It has been lovely to see you here, Gandalf. The children will certainly miss you.”

Gandalf raised an eyebrow.

“As will I, you daft old Wizard,” Bilbo laughed. “But I understand you have important commitments.”

“As do you,” replied Gandalf, giving the twins a pointed look.

“Aye,” Bilbo nodded.

“Is it too soon for you have received replies from Erebor?”

Bilbo gave a sigh.

“Yes, I think so. If the letters travelled well, and if the recipients replied as soon as they received them, then I should think they would be arriving in about another week. Can I ask,” said Bilbo, fixing the Wizard with a wry side glance, “Why it was deemed necessary for Kili’s letter to be hidden inside Balin’s? I presume Balin had no clue about it.”

Gandalf harrumphed.

“Well,” he said, “I believe Kili was most anxious to ensure that no-one knew he was also initiating contact with you. Particularly Balin, as no doubt through him Thorin would have discovered it.”

“Ah,” Bilbo carefully replied.

“That boy is most anxious to play the matchmaker, you know.”

“So it would seem. Unluckily for Kili, he has absolutely no subtlety, which is a most desirable quality in a matchmaker. I wouldn’t be surprised if he and Fili showed up here with Thorin tied in a sack, and proceeded to lock us both in the cold cellar until we reached an understanding.”

The Wizard chuckled.

“Neither would I, dear Bilbo. Neither would I. Things will certainly be set in motion by your letters, anyway. It’s hard to keep secrets in a mountain, even one as big as Erebor.”

Bilbo gave a noncommittal hum.

“Would something along the lines of the ‘cold cellar’ scenario please you?” asked Gandalf.

Bilbo gave a small sigh.

“Truly Gandalf? I do not know. I think that now I will merely wait to see what happens. The smaller stones have begun to fall, and I have a feeling that the avalanche will not be far behind.”

 

~

 

Gandalf took his leave soon after tea, planning to conduct some business in Bree later that evening. Bella clung to his leg for a little while, making a plaintive face, but the Wizard soon managed to soothe her with promises of a visit at the Winter Solstice later in the year.

Thrain held his hand out for Gandalf to shake, which he did, before suddenly pulling the little Dwobbit up into a full bodied hug, making him giggle and squeal almost as loudly as his sister, whose turn was to follow.

Bilbo too hugged his old friend goodbye, standing on his toes to whisper good health, good luck and a good journey.

When the hoofbeats of Gandalf’s horse had died away, the Smial felt suddenly empty. Bilbo felt as though he were reaching for something that wasn’t there. In actual fact, he was standing in his hallway with two rather sad Dwobbits looking up at him expectantly.

“Come on you two, cheer up!” He clapped his hands. “Gandalf will be back with us before you know it. Now then, how about a story to entertain us all before dinner?”

The children nodded, somewhat reluctantly, but soon all three Bagginses were curled up on a pile of cushions on the parlour floor, reliving the story of the company’s capture and imprisonment in Mirkwood (just lately, nothing but a story involving Thorin Oakenshield would do).

As the evening began to draw in, Bilbo left the twins to amuse themselves by bouncing on the cushion pile, and went to the kitchen to start making dinner. A nice, filling cottage pie, he thought, beginning to slice carrots and peel potatoes.

He was just sliding the pie into the oven when he noticed that there were no more squeals or giggles coming from the parlour. He padded back in to investigate, and discovered both his children with their noses pressed against the window, peering out at the front garden.

“Whatever is it?” asked Bilbo, with his hands on his hips. “Has King Thranduil come to invite us to dinner at his palace?”

Thrain remained glued to the window, while Bella turned around.

“No Da,” she said, her face shining with excitement. “There’s a Dwarf in our tomato patch.”

Bilbo felt his insides freeze.

“A Dwarf?” he said, his voice taking over while his brain stumbled and halted in its tracks. “Surely that can’t be right. What would a Dwarf be doing in our tomato patch?”

“There’s two of them,” Thrain interjected.

“Two?!”

“One in the tomato patch and one on the doorstep.”

“The doorstep? Well now I know you’re making fun of me. There is no Dwarf on our doorstep. It’s probably just Gaffer Gamgee come to borrow some sugar, or trim the verge. Although I suppose it is a little late for trimming the verge,” Bilbo babbled.

Finally he walked over to the window and peered over the heads of his children. Well, there seemed to be someone on the doorstep, but the twins had so fogged the window with their breath that he couldn’t make out who or what it was.

“Why doesn’t he knock, Da?” asked Thrain.

“I don’t know dear,” said Bilbo, straightening his collar. “But never let it be said that a Baggins left a visitor hovering on the doorstep.”

Bilbo drew himself up to his full height, and marched out of the parlour and into the entrance hall. As soon as he reached the door he could see that someone was there for certain, and that someone was much taller than any Hobbit had a right to be.

Bilbo took a deep breath, and swung the door open.

Outside was a very nervous, very confused looking Dwarf, with one fist raised as though he had just been about to knock.

Bilbo almost shouted.

“Kili?!”

Kili gave a sheepish smile, lowered his fist, and bowed.

“At your service, Mister Boggins.”


	8. Confusion and Cottage Pie

Bilbo's jaw dropped so low that it took him a considerably long time to reel it back up and form words. 

"What in Yavanna's name are you doing here?" he hissed, making as if to close the door again. "And what is your brother doing trampling on my prize-winning tomatoes?"

"Sorry Bilbo!" the voice of Fili floated from somewhere near the vegetable patch.

"We came to see you of course!" said Kili. He flashed a grin and pushed the door open, stepping over the thresh-hold before Bilbo could so much as blink.

"But- But I-"

"But nothing!" said Kili cheerfully, beginning to unfasten the sword from his belt. 

"I'm sorry Bilbo," Fili repeated a little breathlessly, stepping into the Smial. "He didn't tell me he was planning on stopping here until we were almost upon you. I couldn't just let him go off by himself-"

"That's rubbish," said Kili, "I would have been fine-"

"We're supposed to be on our way to Ered Luin-"

"Oh blast Ered Luin-"

"-to see about some trade agreements, and any more Dwarves who want to come to Ereb-"

"And blast Erebor too. For Mahal's sake, Fi-"

"I've been against this thing from the start-"

"Don't you want Bilbo and Uncle to get-"

"I should have stopped you from writing that letter in the first place-"

"I'd like to have seen you try!"

Bilbo's head flicked back and forth between the bickering Dwarves until finally he decided enough was enough.

"SHUT IT!" He yelled. "Both of you!"

 The brothers dutifully shut their mouths and looked shamefacedly at Bilbo.

"Right," said the Hobbit, trying to catch his breath. "First things first."

He grabbed the sword from Kili and placed it on a nearby shelf. Then he held out his arms.

"It's so good to see you boys," he smiled.

Both Dwarves broke into shining grins, and rushed forward to envelope Bilbo in a rather crushing double Dwarf hug. They looked almost exactly as he remembered them; their clothes were a bit richer, perhaps, and Kili was sporting a small curved scar on his left eyebrow, but that was all. 

"You pair of idiots," he muttered fondly into Kili's shoulder. 

"Idiots we may be, but we're your idiots Uncle Bilbo," replied Kili. And then, "Oh!"

Bilbo opened his eyes, and carefully disentangled himself from six or seven assorted Dwarf limbs. Kili and Fili were staring wide-eyed at Thrain and Bella, who were poking their faces around the corner of the parlour passage, and staring wide-eyed back.

"Ah. Yes," said Bilbo, scratching his head self-consciously.

"Who are these little things?" asked Fili, a touch of wonder in his voice.

"Well..." Bilbo began.

"Are these Hobbitlings?" Kili was looking excitedly back and forth between Bilbo and the twins.

"Fauntlings, yes," said Bilbo.

Kili frowned, confused.

"Are they yours?" A note of unease crept into his tone.

"Er, well, yes. Yes they are."

The Dwarves exchanged a look. Bilbo bent a little and reached out a hand to his children. "Come here, you two. I'd like to introduce you to these Dwarves. Come on, it's alright."

Thrain pushed Bella behind him as they shuffled into the hall, making sure to stay between her and the newcomers. He fixed Kili with a stern stare.

"It's alright," Bilbo tried to reassure them, putting one hand on each child's shoulder. "These are friends. Fili and Kili, Princes of Erebor, I would like you to meet my son and daughter, Thrain and Belladonna Baggins."

Nobody spoke for a moment. Then everybody tried speaking at once.

" _Thrain_ Baggins?"

"Da, are these the Princes from the story?"

"Wait a moment, I'm confused-"

"The ones that lost the ponies?"

"Can I touch their hair?"

"Why would you name your son Thrain?"

"Why, what's wrong with my name?"

That shut everybody up. Fili, who had asked the question, looked down at the Dwobbit.

"Why, nothing. Nothing at all is wrong with your name. In fact, it's a very good name. The same as mine and Kili's Grandfather."

Thrain's eyes widened. He took a few steps towards Fili, looking up at him intently.

"My name's the same as your Grandpa's?"

"Aye. Kili and I are the sons of Dis, who is daughter of Thrain and sister of Thorin, who rules under the Mountain now."

Bella, who had been practically hopping on the spot with excitement for some minutes now, tugged on Bilbo's trouser leg.

"But, but but," she said, "If their Ma is our other Da's sister, we're cousins, aren't we? Aren't we?"

Bilbo opened his mouth to reply, but Kili got there first.

"Wait a moment here, I'm completely lost. Other Da? How can they have another Da if you're their Da?"

 "Well look, if we all just sit down I think I can expla-"

"We have two Das," Bella piped up. Bilbo winced a little. "Da says we're special because we have two Das, instead of one Ma and one Da like Sam does. Da's our Da, and Thorin Oakenshield is our other Da, but he doesn't live with us cos he's very far away doing King things. Oh! And I forgot the most important bit! Because our other Da's a Dwarf we're Dwobbits, which means half Dwarf half Hobbit," she finished, breathing heavily and looking very proud of herself.

Kili and Fili stared at her as though she had just told them the moon was made of green cheese. Bella smiled obliviously back.

Bilbo's eyes watered a little as he tried to figure a way out of this mess. No, wait a minute. They were watering because there was smoke coming from the kitchen.

"Oh my, the pie!" he shouted, racing out of the hall.

Bilbo managed to drag the cottage pie out of the oven just in time. It was black around the edges, but he could cut those off and there would still be enough for him, Thrain, Bella, Kili and Fili - oh dear. Kili and Fili. 

Fili soon followed him into the kitchen, holding Bella. She looked even tinier than usual in his arms. Following after them were Kili and Thrain, who was still fixing Kili with a not entirely trusting look. Bella, on the other hand, seemed to have decided that Cousin Fili was her new favourite thing. She reached up a small hand and took hold of one of his moustache braids, before leaning in to press her nose to his.

Fili drew back a little, nonplussed. 

"She just wants to rub her nose on yours," Bilbo explained. "It's a Hobbit thing."

"It's like saying 'I like you very much’," Bella told Fili.

"Oh. Well, in that case, I like you very much," Fili replied, bringing his nose back into the range of Bella's. She giggled, and nuzzled against it.

"What about me?" asked Kili, sporting a mock pout. Bella reached out her arms to him, and Fili carefully passed her over to the other Dwarf to repeat the process. Thrain looked on, his gaze softening a little. Bilbo felt an involuntary smile stretch its way onto his face.

"Well," said Bilbo, "I think I've managed to save the pie. I take it the both of you will be staying?"

"Oh yes," said Fili.

"Most definitely," said Kili. "You've got quite a bit of explaining to do, Uncle Bilbo." The Dwarf's eyes were gleaming.

"Yes, I was afraid of that," Bilbo sighed. "Well, everybody sit at the table, we can't eat standing up. And get rid of the rest of those weapons, if you please."

 

~

 

"So, they really are Thorin's children then? And twins to boot?"

"I don't know why we didn't see it immediately to be honest. Thrain is the spitting image of him."

Thrain paused with a spoonful of cottage pie half way to his mouth.

"Am I really?"

"Really," said Kili. "You look like a mini version of Thorin. Only with pointier ears of course."

Thrain looked very pleased with himself, and went back to shovelling pie.

"And you are the spitting image of your Da," said Fili, reaching out to stroke Bella's curls. 

"This is amazing," Kili beamed, as Bella squirmed happily under Fili's touch. "I always wanted cousins, but Thorin was always so- well, Thorin."

"Is he not fond of children then?" Bilbo frowned.

"Oh no no, he likes children very much," said Fili. "He was always wonderful with Ki and me when we were small, telling us stories and playing games and whatnot. No, he just never seemed at all interested in finding anyone to have children with. Until he met you, of course," Fili gave Bilbo a small smile. "But then I don't think he was ever expecting children to come from that union."

"I don't think I was either," Bilbo admitted. "To be honest, I'd almost completely forgotten the possibility was there. Especially with a Dwarf, I mean, who even knew if it could happen?"

"...When did it happen, if I may ask?" said Kili slyly.

"Kili!" Fili kicked his brother's leg under the table.

"When did what happen?" said Thrain.

Kili snorted. Bilbo's lips threatened to quirk into a smile, and he blushed.

"In Laketown," he said.

"Of course," nodded Fili.

"When did _what_ happen?"

"Wait, does that mean you were pregnant when you went in and spoke to the dragon?" Kili looked awed.

"I suppose so, yes. I didn't realise it myself until I got back to Rivendell, though." 

"Bloody hell," Kili swore, and then clapped a hand over his mouth as Bella giggled at him. "Hobbits are wondrous!"

"What are you talking about?" said Thrain, frustrated.

"Sorry dear," Bilbo replied. "We're talking about when I got pregnant with you and Bella. It happened just before we got to the Mountain and went in to see the Dragon."

"So Bella and me were inside you when you met the Dragon and the Elves and everyone?"

"Yes, you were right there with me."

"That's so brilliant!" Thrain shouted, almost jumping out of his chair.

Kili laughed.

"I think I'm going to like these Dwobbits," he said.

 

 ~

 

Much of the rest of that evening was given over to asking Fili and Kili question after question after question. They sat with the twins on their pile of cushions in the parlour (after laboriously removing their boots at Bilbo's request), and graciously answered any and every question Thrain and Bella could come up with.

"Why do Dwarves have beards and Hobbits don’t?”

“What do Dwarves like to eat best in the whole world?”

“Is Erebor much bigger than Hobbiton? How much bigger?”

“Are there any flowers in Erebor?”

“Do we have any more Dwarf cousins?”

“What does our other Da like to eat best in the whole world?”

“Is it true Dwarves are so strong because you were made out of stone in the beginning?”

“Will you braid my hair like yours?”

“Can we see your swords? Da let us look at his sword,”

Fili looked over to Bilbo for permission. Bilbo gave a nod.

“Well, just as long as you promise to look, and not touch,” Fili answered.

“We promise!”

Kili and Fili both retrieved their swords from the shelf in the hallway, and held them up unsheathed for the little ones to marvel at. The shining metal was honed to a fiendishly sharp edge, and the handles adorned with intricate runes and symbols. Staring at the swords in awe, both of the twins ceased their inquisition, but not for longer than half a minute.

“How many Goblins have you killed with that sword?

“Do you carry it with you all the time?”

“Could you kill wolves with it? Da says the Shire was attacked by wolves once,”

“Will you teach us how to sword fight, so we can protect the Shire too?”

“Maybe when you’re older,” said Kili. “You’re both still a bit too little for swords. Right Bilbo?”

“Right. And now, I think it might be time for a bite of supper and bed.”

The twins gave loud groans of disapproval, but still willingly followed Bilbo into the kitchen to watch as he pulled together a light supper of carrot soup and buttered bread. Afterwards, the twins agreed to go to bed without a fuss, just as long as ‘Cousin Kili and Cousin Fili tuck us in, please.'

Once the twins were tucked in and the candles blown out, Kili leaned back in his chair in the smoking room, a pipe in one hand and the other on his stomach, and sighed contentedly.

"I'd forgotten how amazing your food is, Bilbo."

"Thank you Kili," the Hobbit blushed, as he always did when someone complimented his cooking.

“I have to say Bilbo, I was not expecting this when I got up this morning.” Fili’s expression had returned to the one he had worn upon first meeting the children; slightly shell-shocked. He turned it on Bilbo before suddenly dissolving into laughter.

Kili was the first to join in, followed closely by Bilbo. The Hobbit put his head in his hands and laughed until he felt his eyes begin to water.

Kili's laughter died into a sigh, and he sucked on his pipe.

"They talk well, for being so young," he said.

"Yes," said Bilbo, "They certainly talk more than young Hobbits would at their age. Although they are also a bit smaller than Fauntlings would be too. I don't suppose there have been many Dwobbits before, or we'd know what to expect from them."

"Thorin is going to faint dead away when he finds out about them!" Kili exclaimed.

The faltering of Bilbo's smile did not escape the Dwarves. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," said Kili.

"No, it's alright," Bilbo sighed, lighting his own pipe. "He is going to have to be told, at some stage. It isn't fair to keep this from him any longer. At least, that's what Gandalf says, and he's usually right about this sort of thing, the interfering old bat," he said fondly.

"Gandalf knew about this?" said Fili.

"Oh yes, he's known from the beginning. In fact I'm surprised you didn't bump into him on your way here; he left the Shire only this afternoon."

"That sneaky Wizard. But yes, I have to agree with him; Thorin should be told. I know you're still not ready to forgive him, Bilbo, and with good reason, but this is going to make him so happy. He's going to forget all about-" Fili cut himself off. 

"Well," Kili continued quickly, "let's just say I doubt gold will hold quite the same draw for him once he's laid eyes on those two adorable fuzzballs in there," he jerked a thumb towards the twins' bedroom.

Bilbo smiled at the description, but he wasn't fooled. He gave Fili a pointed look.

"Going to forget all about what?" he asked.

The brothers glanced at each other.

"Come on, boys."

"Alright," Fili shifted uncomfortably. "Kili told you in his letter that we're a bit worried about Thorin, yes?"

Bilbo nodded.

"We're worried he might be slipping back into his old ways. He spends more and more time alone, he slopes off by himself and we can't find him for hours on end."

"We're worried he might be going down to the treasure rooms," said Kili. "Although we've never come across him in there. But when we first took back the Mountain all he could talk about was that he'd never forgive himself for how he'd behaved, and that if he ever started to succumb to the sickness again he'd....well, he'd take matters into his own hands."

Bilbo felt a shard of ice pierce his heart.

"Are you...are you saying what I think you're saying?" He looked back and forth between the brothers. "...That he'd try to... to kill himself?"

The Dwarves looked at each other again.

"Well, I don't really believe he'd actually do it," said Fili, eventually. "But I know Balin's worried about him too. He barely ever leaves Thorin's side these days, and I'm starting to think it's because he's afraid Uncle will try something. He didn't mention anything in his letter to you?"

Bilbo shook his head, and felt it start to ache. He'd managed without Thorin these past years, knowing that he was safely at Erebor, but the idea of him suddenly not being in the world at all filled him with terror and dread.

"I've said it before, and I'll say it again," Kili's face was grave. "It's you, he needs, Bilbo. He needs to hold onto something," he sent another meaningful glance in the direction of Thrain and Bella's room. 

Bilbo's expression darkened. They smoked in silence for a few minutes.

"How long do you have until you're missed at Ered Luin?" Bilbo asked.

"Not long," replied Fili. "Three days at the most, I'd say, before people start asking questions."

"Well then." The Hobbit rose, and began pacing the room. "I'd better start coming up with a plan now, hadn't I?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the unscheduled hiatus this story has taken over the last couple of weeks - a friend of mine has become very ill, so I've been trying to help her out. Rest assured the tale will continue soon!


End file.
